


Moltres: Weak Against Water

by OmoYasha



Series: Omovember 2020 [13]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Gen, James's Flaming Moltres Bodysuit, Omorashi, Team Rocket Trio (Pokemon), Wetting, which totally deserves its own character tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmoYasha/pseuds/OmoYasha
Summary: Omovember Day 21: Wardrobe MalfunctionJames made his costumes as sturdy as they were fashionable, and it was not a design feature he’d ever had a reason to regret before.  Right now?  He rather wished he made them about as sturdy as tissue paper, at least in the fastening department.
Relationships: Kojirou | James & Musashi | Jessie & Rocket-dan Nyarth | Team Rocket Meowth
Series: Omovember 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998742
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	Moltres: Weak Against Water

**Author's Note:**

> The tragic story of why James's Moltres costume later in the anime is SO MUCH UGLIER than his first one. Thank you to everyone who gave me brilliant ideas for this - you know who you are! :D

By Team Rocket standards, their plan today was going great. 

James got to dress in his favorite Moltres costume, Jessie got to be a snappy pokemon hunter, and since the twerps had fallen for it hook, line and sinker – or more literally, fallen into a pit trap – Meowth was getting some excellent opportunities to laugh at them.

It had been an excellent day so far, and James was pleased with it.

…admittedly, he’d be _more_ pleased if he didn’t feel like he was about to burst at any moment. It wasn’t exactly a convenient time to need the bathroom. But then, it hadn’t _been_ a convenient time to go all afternoon, and with his typical luck, it would _remain_ a bad time all evening. But if he could at least wait until they got away with the twerp’s pokemon, it would be _slightly_ better.

But that’s easier said than done.

Especially when he’s distracted enough to almost (if not quite!) bungle his lines on their motto multiple times. He could recite them in his _sleep_ , and yet, apparently not when he’s this busy trying _not_ to think about bathrooms, or water, or…

He managed to get them right, but he knew _Jessie_ probably noticed his hesitation.

If she hadn’t noticed that, she definitely noticed when he had to abandon his dramatic pose much too quickly with a squeak, not liking the pressure it put on his bladder.

Jessie eyed him up and down. He could feel her taking in his nervous shifting from foot to foot, the tension in his shoulders – and maybe something in his expression, it was hard to say. He’d be blushing if he wasn’t so distracted.

“ _Really, James?_ You couldn’t have taken care of this earlier?”

James shrugged, not having much of an answer besides “Not really”, which he suspected would not go over well.

Jessie rolled her eyes.

“Just hurry up and go, then!” She said, waving toward the trees.

“I’ll stay and make sure the twerps don’t get away.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to delay things…”

“Well you aren’t much use right now, are you?” Jessie scowled. “If you just _go now_ , you can help when you get back.”

James nodded, and fled out of sight of the pit trap and his team, flaming tail streaming behind him.

With a few bushes and trees safely between them, he reached around the back and – with some groping – found the hidden zipper, and gave it a tug, a bit embarrassed at the attention, but too glad for the break to really mind.

The zipper slid the first few inches down the nape of his neck…

And stopped.

He frowned. It hadn’t done that last time he wore it. Maybe he had a bad angle? Attempting to reach around differently took a little work, with the wings flowing from his arms, but he managed.

He tried again, holding his breath and pulling at the zipper as gently and evenly as he could manage – yanking always just seemed to make them worse.

…nothing.

It was stuck.

That was… definitely less than ideal. Beginning to become alarmed, he tried contorting into several different positions, whimpering at the ways they squeezed at his middle.

“What’s taking so long? Are you going to be all day back there?”

Jessie’s distant voice pierced his thoughts.

James took a moment to form a response. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about this, but… he had to admit he was getting nowhere by himself.

“Ah- my costume is stuck!”

He called back, unable to quite conceal the rising panic in his voice. There was a moment of silence, in which he could practically hear Jessie’s long suffering expression, and then an indistinct conversation between her and Meowth. After a few seconds, the cat pokemon slipped through the bushes.

“Whaddya mean? How’d you do that?”

“I mean exactly what it sounds like!” James gestured vaguely at his back. “It won’t open!”

At a suspiciously amused sounding cough, he added,

“Don’t laugh! How would you like to be stuck in a costume you wanted out of?”

“I wouldn’t know – I don’t go dressin’ in stuff I can’t get out of like youse two.”

“Well are you going to help or aren’t you?”

“Gee, calm down. Leave it to Meowth!”

James knelt down so Meowth could reach, although he couldn’t help an unhappy noise at the not-so-great position.

“I bet _real_ Moltres don’t have this kind of problem,” he complained as Meowth’s paws patted and tugged at his costume.

“Betcha _real_ Moltres don’t wear pants, either. They’ve got the right idea if yah ask Meowth.”

James sighed.

“I wish _I_ wasn’t wearing pants right about now…” he grumbled.

Meowth didn’t respond as he pulled at the zipper. Unlike James, he had no qualms about yanking it, or ripping at it, or – when all else failed – grabbing it between his teeth while trying to keep the rest of the fabric lined up. None of it seemed to have an effect.

James made his costumes as sturdy as they were fashionable, and it was not a design feature he’d ever had a reason to regret before. Right now? He rather wished he made them about as sturdy as tissue paper, at least in the fastening department. 

He tried to crane his head over his shoulder to see how Meowth was doing.

“Well? Any luck?”

“Don’t rush me! Not all of us have thumbs, yah know?”

“Can you get it open or not?”

“Hold your horses, gimme a while.”

“I don’t _have_ a while!” James exclaimed, realizing as he said it that it was unfortunately true. Sitting down wasn’t doing him any favors, so he stood back up, shifting from foot to foot.

“This isn’t working.” he muttered, and then, before he could psych himself out of it, called,

“Jessie…?”

There was a moment of silence, and then she called back,

“What now?!”

“We need help!”

“Can’t you two do anything on your own?”

Meowth bristled, hopping onto James’s shoulder so his voice would carry better as he shouted,

“OH YEAH? I’d like to see _you_ try it!”

James cringed a little at the loud, abrasive noise so close to his ear. It didn’t matter that they were too far away to hear Jessie’s annoyed groan – he could imagine it perfectly fine.

But after a moment, irritated or not, his partner came into sight momentarily. She walked up briskly, wasting no time grabbing James and turning him around so she could see the zipper – though she got a bit gentler after he yelped at the sudden movement, squeezing his thighs together.

“What on Earth did you two manage to _do_ to this thing?” She asked, poking at the zipper.

“Hey, these zippers ain’t exactly made for Meowth!” Meowth responded, crossing his arms defensively as he perched on a nearby bush.

“I didn’t do _anything_ to it – that’s _the entire problem!_ ” James added.

Jessie gave them a dubious sounding “Hmm”, and spent a few seconds working at the zipper.

“It’s more twisted than a tangela.” She grumbled, as she worked at it.

James moaned – that was definitely not the news he wanted to hear. He squirmed – it wasn’t really a voluntary choice, at this point. He just knew if he stopped moving, it was going to be _too much_.

“Stay still, will you? All that fidgeting is just making it harder.”

He scowled.

“I can either stay still or stay dry – you can’t have both!” He shot back. Even so, he did his best to keep his movements smaller – he didn’t want to do _anything_ that might delay the process a second more than necessary. Not when it _hurts_.

But as the minutes drag on with no obvious change beyond Jessie muttering increasingly inventive insults at the offending zipper, he grew more and more panicked. _There was no way he could hold it until they got the costume off, at this rate_.

Maybe if he just… let a little bit out, then he’d be able to hold it better?

He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but he also couldn’t think clearly enough to tell, and he had to do _something._

He tried to relax just a little bit; just enough to relieve the pressure ever so slightly… only to yelp and shove his hands between his legs with a squeak as he desperately tried to stem the flow of _way more than a little bit_ that gushed into his pants.

_Bad plan, very bad plan!_

He just barely managed to get it under control, and Jessie lightly smacked his leg with her palm.

“What made you think that was going to go any better for you than it did _last time_ you tried it?” Her tone wasn’t angry, but it was definitely somewhat exasperated.

“I DON’T KNOW?!”

Jessie snorted as she went back to the zipper and somehow – magically – managed to move it slightly further down James’s back.

“I don’t understand how it never helps, but for some reason you always think it’s going to.” she commented, more to herself than to James.

He whined.

“Hurry, please!”

Even though Jessie assured him that she was, by the time she got the zipper fully open, James was shaking with desperation, rubbing his hands together anxiously and biting back whimpers and noises. It _hurt_.

“Okay, it’s open, you’re good to go.”

She stepped back, but James stayed motionless, just fidgeting in place.

“I can’t!”

If he tried to do all the twisting movement required to take the outfit off, he was not going to make it, he just _knew_ he wasn’t. Even moving his _hands_ was going to be difficult enough.

He was relieved when Jessie didn’t make him explain further, just stepped forward again and began peeling the soft, yellow material off of his shoulders, quickly and confidently. At least they had helped each other change enough, over the course of their partnership, that _that_ wasn’t what was making this awkward.

It _was_ still awkward though, and embarrassing – needing someone’s assistance to use the bathroom would never _not_ be those things, at least to James. But the familiarity took at least _one_ layer of discomfort away.

When she had moved around to his front and pulled the loose, winged sleeves all the way down his arms, he realized – he had to take the sleeves off.

He had to move his hands.

Squeezing his eyes shut in preparation, as quickly as he could, he let go to pull his hands through the cuffs as quickly as humanly possible, and shove them back into his crotch beneath the outfit.

…it wasn’t quite quick enough, and he squeaked again, eyes wide, as another leak escaped him – this one lasting _several seconds_. His thighs felt wet.

Jessie glanced down at the same time he did, noticing the wet patch soaked through to the front of the Moltres costume. She raised an eyebrow.

“I thought we just went over how awful of an idea that is?” She asked, slightly reproachfully.

“I didn’t mean to this time!” he defended, voice high pitched and far more strained than he intended. His cheeks were burning.

As Jessie went to pull his costume the rest of the way off, her arm jostled him in a way that momentarily wedged his belt straight into his full bladder, and made him hiss.

And then it hit him… his belt.

His belt which was still there because he – as was their common practice – had his _entire Team Rocket uniform on_ under his costume.

Even if Jessie helped him with his belt, he couldn’t… he couldn’t deal with taking _another entire outfit_ off. He just – he _couldn’t_.

He gave a frightened, unhappy, whine, barely noticing that the costume was completely off and he was now standing shivering in just his usual white uniform; pants already stained a slightly translucent grey with moisture.

“You should just go, James.”

Jessie’s voice was much gentler than before, but he still jumped a little, even tenser at the thought. He shook his head firmly.

He couldn’t just stand here and _pee his pants on purpose_. That was just… gross and wrong and _not something you did_.

Jessie sighed, and squeezed his shoulder, then gently started rubbing circles on the back of his neck.

James felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Without consciously thinking about it, some of the tension eased out of his body; relaxing ever so slightly…

That was all it took.

He was wetting himself; urine streaming in hissing rivulets down his legs and pattering forcefully against the ground. It seemed to go on for a miserable eternity, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear.

He hunched over with an unhappy moan, mind racing in panicked circles just like… just like Jessie’s hand. Which was still on the back of his neck, steady and reassuring.

…she wasn’t mad?

He struggled to get his breathing under control enough to talk, trying to look at Jessie out of the corner of his eyes, and not sure if he was disappointed or relieved that she was positioned slightly out of his field of vision.

“You aren’t – you aren’t mad?” he choked out.

Jessie gave a derisive snort.

“No.” she responded, simply but firmly.

Even Meowth – though he stayed well clear of any possible wetness – tried to join in on the reassurance.

“Yeah, cheer up Jimmy! It ain’t like it’s the first time we’ve seen yah wit’ wet pants and it probably won’t be the last!”

There was a yelp from him as Jessie did… something, cover his mouth or kick him lightly, he couldn’t quite see, and then Jessie said,

“Honestly though, it’s fine. Just make your costumes with a better zipper next time so we never have to do this again, okay?”

He sniffled an agreement. He would. Next time he made a costume like this, he didn’t want…

He paused.

He was never going to be able to wear this one again, was he? Not with the zipper so totally and completely destroyed.

For some reason, _that_ was the thought that tipped him over the edge into hysterical tears.

Even with his teammates reassurances that he could make a new one, a better one, he just knew it _wouldn’t be the same._

_Nothing_ could be better than the Flaming Moltres.

By the time they had cleaned up, and belatedly remembered to check back in on their trap, none of them were entirely shocked to find it empty. A bit irritated? Certainly.

But…

There was always tomorrow to try to catch that blasted Pikachu.

They could leave it for today.

In the nearby town, Ash, Brock and Misty sat in a restaurant, eating dinner.

“Man, that whole thing with Team Rocket today was _weird_.” Brock commented as he picked apart a piece of fish.

There was a pause. Misty stopped, a bite of rice midway to her mouth.

“…do you think we could maybe just… pretend we never heard… whatever that was?”

The three of them looked at each other, nodded firmly, and without a word, went back to their dinner, reassured in their mutual agreement that they _didn’t want to know._

**Author's Note:**

> -Meowth absolutely made the zipper worse while trying to help  
> -The next Moltres costume was not nearly as cool as the first  
> -I like to imagine they spent the rest of the evening hiding under a pile of blankets and talking about costume ideas to try to cheer James up


End file.
